The Wall Around the World
by sakuuya
Summary: A world of magic is bleeding into ours, threatening the entirety of human existence. Thirty years ago, six girls were given the power to save the Earth, but it may take more than that this time. An OC story.
1. Prologue: A Distant Shore

**Prologue: A Distant Shore**

Hi everybody, and welcome to the story! I'm very sorry to have started with Severance-style temporal screwery in the prologue. Um... All the non-italicized parts are more-or-less simultaneous, with every one focusing on a different character. And the italicized bits are happening before, during and, after. Aagh. That wasn't a very helpful explanation, was it? I promise the fic will be structured less confusingly in the future.

**Disclaimer:** Tokyo Mew Mew and all its canon characters belong to Rei Yoshida and Mia Ikumi. OCs belong to their respective owners, since this a collaborative story, and most of the OCs are not mine. I'll give more specific credit whenever an OC gets introduced for real.

**Dedication: **This chapter is dedicated to everyone who didn't bug me to get this started. The rest of you? Are kinda jerks. XD Kidding, of course, but seriously, a big thanks to the pressure-free readers.

* * *

_Now, there is a gash in the sky over Chicago. Most cannot see it, and those who can dismiss it as a strange weather pattern, a mirage, some astrological oddity; but it is there. At times it seems, to those who can see it, to be just another shade of sky, a little more lavender than usual, perhaps, but nothing too out of the ordinary. At others, it is a malignant thing, like a cancerous raincloud, and it stains everything it touches._

o()o

Dr. Ryou Shirogane stared out his window. It was no accident that he was here, not genetic luck that let him see the fog. He didn't dare sleep in this weather, not when the wound in the sky was searching for him and others like him. Running a tired hand through his silver-gold hair, the scientist sat in silent vigil, remembering those (both living and dead) who had borne witness the last time the sky had rent itself asunder and praying for those who would see it this cycle. He would have to do it tomorrow; the hole in the sky was growing. He probably shouldn't even have waited this long.

o()o

Oxygen was a memory, and her life was flashing before her eyes. Every so often, her head broke through the surf, and she took great gasping breaths, pulling in as much water as air, but those were becoming less and less frequent as the surface fell farther away. She tried to swim, to push herself back up toward the sky and life, but her strokes were weak, and she couldn't tell if her failing vision was due to the darkling ocean water or a lack of oxygen to her brain, though her lungs burned from the strain. Her struggles became more pathetic, and she continued her slow descent.

o()o

_At night, the tear breathes—or bleeds, for it's as much a wound as it is a mouth—silver mist, invisible even to most of the humans who can see the tear at all. If you were looking outside at just the right moment—if you could see—you would witness a cloud of diamonds descend upon the street and send forth questing tendrils to search the urban night, touching and tasting all that nocturnal Chicago has to offer._

o()o

The room was getting smaller, bit by tiny bit. It wasn't shrinking at a rate that she could perceive, but nonetheless, she knew that the blank walls were slowly closing in on her. There was no door, no indication of how she got into the room in the first place. And that means there was no way out. She glanced suspiciously from wall to wall, her brown eyes darting faster and faster as the breath caught in her lungs. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out when she opened her mouth. The white walls were in closer now, moving faster, as if they were confident that the brown-haired girl couldn't do a thing to stop them. Soon, she barely had a place to stand, and the walls were pressing in like an insistent lover. It felt like all the air had gone out of the world.

o()o

It was lunchtime, and she'd brought soup from home. She unscrewed the lid of her plaid thermos, set it on the table, and poured some chicken 'n' stars into her bowl. Instead of weak yellow broth, though, tiny brown spiders poured from the thermos, overflowing the bowl and scurrying toward her. She screamec and fell backwards out of her chair. The spiders just kept coming from her thermos, far more than the little cylinder should have been able to hold. Throughout the rest of the cafeteria, lunch went on as usual. No one noticed as the ocean of tiny spiders swallowed her up, every inch of her pale skin submerged beneath skittering legs and tiny, hungry jaws.

o()o

_Elsewhere in the city, people are asleep, of course. Wisps of liquid silver drift in through open windows this warm night, and squeeze between the cracks in the windowsills of those who prefer to separate themselves from the noises of the night-city. The mist comes in, nonetheless, curling around sleeping heads like an inquisitive octopus. In most slumbering minds, it finds nothing that could threaten it, but there are a few that could present real danger. The fog is mindless; it doesn't know how it can tell, or why these minds are a threat, but it reacts nonetheless, in the only way it knows how._

o()o

He couldn't see who was standing above him. There was a bright light shining down from the ceiling, so the person—he couldn't even guess a gender—bending over him was just a black silhouette, marred by the occasional flash of silver and red. He was lying in his bed, unrestrained, but he couldn't move, couldn't even cry out as the silhouette ran a knife along the flesh left bare by his t-shirt and boxers. Unbidden, his eyes teared up, but there was nothing he could do about that, either. The pain was searing, and while he couldn't lift his head to see his wounds, the brilliant scarlet that stained his torturer's hands and blade, much starker than it should have been given the lighting, told him everything. He could feel the silhouette smile, somehow, and he knew he was going to bear the scars of this encounter for a long time.

o()o

A blonde-haired girl woke with a start. The hospital was quiet aside from the beeping of machines. She stretched awkwardly, her neck and back sore from falling asleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair. Instinctively, the teen disliked the hospital's smell, cold and antiseptic, nothing like the warm familiarity of her home. Her wide russet eyes blinked once, twice, before the panic set in. She didn't remember coming here, but she knew what being here meant. It took a couple of false starts before her cramped legs let her stand up, but she dashed to the hospital bed as soon as she was able. Her grandmother lay there, looking too thin and too pale. The old woman's eyes flickered open, slowly, and she looked up into her granddaughter's eyes.

"I'm dying," she said quietly, her voice rusty and distant. The blonde girl grabbed her old, veiny hand, crying unashamedly. "I'm dying," the old woman continued, " and it's all your fault." Her eyes closed again, for the last time.

o()o

_Ryou's prayers do little good for the handful of teenagers the silver mist has latched onto. Their rooms, to an observer, would be beautiful: shining, shimmering air making the mundane bedrooms into magical fairylands. That's an accurate idea, more or less, but the fair folk aren't kind to the young humans lost in the mist, small silver-tinged outlines breathing steadily on beds._

o()o

For a moment, she wasn't sure why all she could see was other people's legs, before she realized that she was a child. She twisted thick black hair around her finger as she looked back and fourth dazedly, wondering where she was and where her parents were. Suddenly, the sea of legs started surging forward, and the little Hispanic girl was pushed along with the current. She saw, through a forest of pants, flames devouring some sort of building, which was what everyone was staring at. There were cries for help emanating from inside the inferno. The little girl's first instinct was to try to help, so she pushed to the front of the crowd, wanting to race into the building and save whoever's screaming inside, but strong arms held her back. A fireman stood in front of her, forbidding her from entering.

"You don't wanna go in there, honey," he told her, his lips never moving. "There's nothing you can do, anyway." She struggled, but he was much too strong for her. "Stop that, you'll just be in the way," he warned, but no one else was doing anything and the girl had never felt so helpless in her entire life.

o()o

The world was an abyss. There was no light at all, and he couldn't even be sure he still had a body. It felt like he was standing on something solid, but there was no way to tell for sure. "Hello?" he called, uncertain if he wanted to risk being heard by anything that could live in a place like this. But even contact with something scary would be better than this yawning emptiness, this blackness pressing heavily on his open eyes, so he persisted. "Hey! Is anyone there?" He felt movement behind him and whirled around, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. For a moment, he could swear he saw red eyes and a humanoid figure, darker even than the starless night that surrounds him. But the figure disappeared as soon as he saw it. Somehow, the darkness was worse now that he knew that he wasn't alone.

o()o

_The fog watches them, eyeless and consciousness, from inside their bodies, as the slow rise and fall of their chests draws itself into them, like they were breathing in smoke. On its own, the fog has no way to interpret the images it finds in their terrified brains, but there are eyes and minds behind it, just as cold and alien, and the fog's masters are pleased by what they see._


	2. China Moon

**Chapter 1: China Moon**

This chapter is for ZephyrFiction, and he would probably prefer I didn't tell you why. Well, you know what, Zeph? Too friggin' bad. IT'S HIS BIRTHDAY TODAY! (Whatever the publish date may say, it's past midnight on Saturday the 23rd where I am, and has been for an hour or so in Zeph's time zone.) So happy 19th birthday; here's some fic for you. Sorry your character isn't actually in it...

I want to disclaim that this is the first time I've _ever_ written anything with a character who wasn't either mine or canon, and I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job. This fic is a learning experience for me, and I swear I'll get better as it goes on. Especially if you tell me what I'm doing wrong.

I think I have a kink for old!Ryou or something. I mean, this is the second fic where I've written him middle-aged, and it's not a very common version of him, at least as a major character. What's wrong with me? Well, okay, besides the fact that it's really hilarious to read the manga chapter where he tells Ichigo she's a Mew and picture him as a 45-year-old saying all the same stuff... Seriously, the way he talks to Ichigo when he first meets her is creepy enough as it is.

Finally, if anyone can guess where I'm getting all my titles from, they win... something. I don't know what yet. I'm open to suggestions; this is really more about testing y'alls Google skillz.

**Disclaimer: **Tally Knoxford was created by and belongs to **Cherrie **

* * *

There was no good way to do this, Ryou realized. Waiting for them all to appear in one place was a terrible idea; who knew if he would _ever_ have that kind of luck again, or how long it would take even if he did. And he wasn't a young man any more. Just going up to them and explaining would be no good.

He knew who he was looking for. Since the fog had come, he had spent most of his nights wandering the city with instruments designed to find them. If anyone was out in the fog—it would be strange for the whole city to stay inside all night, but he didn't blame them for wanting, even if only at a subconscious level, to get out of the mist—they paid him no mind, no matter where in the city he walked. There were eight of them this time, not so homogeneous as his last batch had been, but maybe that was for the better. His Mews had barely been able to seal the tear thirty years ago, but maybe a bigger, more diverse group would have better luck. He desperately hoped so.

Once he was certain he'd found all the addresses, he slipped a little card into each mailbox and prayed.

o()o

Some of her friends had been here before, but it was her first time. She scanned the menu carefully, but everything sounded _so good_, and she didn't want to make the wrong choice. "What's good here, you guys?"

"Ohmigod, Tally, the red velvet cake is _orgasmic_!" Angie exclaimed from across the round table, holding a dramatic hand to her throat as she did so.

"I'm gonna take you on your word there," Tally replied with heavy faux-seriousness. When the waitress came round, she hung back, waiting to see what the other girls ordered before she made her own decision. Sure enough, Angie and one other girl (presumably also swayed by the promise of orgasmic dessert) ordered the red velvet cake, so when it came her turn to order, she asked for a slice as well.

The cake, when it came, was delicious but not orgasmic, through from what Tally could tell, none of the three girls who had ordered other stuff had any romantic feelings toward their desserts, either. The six of them fell into an easy, friendly pattern of laughter and gossip that lasted long after their food was gone. Finally, though, conversation waned and the girls decided, as a unit, that it was time to leave.

Up at the counter, Tally rummaged through her purse until she found the little card she'd stuffed in there when she heard she was coming here. It was pale pink, with "Café Mew Mew" printed on it in looping dark pink script. Under that, it said "one free dessert" in a more sensible font that matched the color of the café's logo, along with the stipulations and validity dates.

The girl behind the counter looked confused when Tally slid the card across to her. "One sec, okay?" she asked, then turned and called for a manager. She looked like she'd never seen a coupon before, though Tally had assumed the café had mailed them all over. It was an odd little piece of information, but one that didn't mean anything yet, so the brown-haired girl just filed it away for future reference.

"What's the hold up, Tal?" Angie asked, coming up behind her and peering over her shorter friend's shoulders. "Where'd you get that?"

"Get what?" another girl, Laura, asked, joining Angie behind Tally. "Ooh!" She snatched up the card and scrutinized it intensely. "Seconded. I want one!"

"I... got it in the mail," Tally explained hesitantly, hoping that was an acceptable answer. "Didn't you guys?"

"Pssh. No," Laura groused, hooking her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. "I think the mailman's out to get me."

"Me neither, but I'm not _crazy_." Angie followed up her comment with a pointed glance at Laura, who stuck out her tongue in retaliation. "Lucky you, Tally."

"I guess. I feel bad about holding the line up, though. I was just gonna go home after this anyway; do you guys wanna just go without me?"

Laura nodded and hefted her purse higher up her shoulder, but Angie bit her lip. "You sure?" Tally waved a dismissive hand.

"Sure, it's no problem. I live what, like a mile from here? I could use the exercise. Work off some of that cake." She rubbed her stomach emphatically with one thin hand.

"Oh, sure, like _you_ need the exercise, skinny bitch," Angie replied good-naturedly. "Now you're just making me feel bad about my fat butt!" She laughed and turned to Laura, who was already by the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tal!"

The cashier _still _wasn't back, and even though there wasn't anyone else in line, Tally wished she would hurry up. Contrary to what she'd told her friends, Tally was _not_ looking forward to the walk home. She hadn't lied; she did live darn close to the café, but walking just seemed like so much _work_. Ugh.

Tally looked up. To her surprise, the waitress had been replaced with a man whose hair was a mixture of blonde and grey. She estimated he was in his mid forties, though she also noticed that he was in remarkable shape for someone that age. Especially someone who made their living selling pastries.

"Hello," he said, sounding much nicer than Tally had imagined. "Is there a problem?" There was a slight Asian accent to his voice, though it was too faint for Tally to confidently judge where it came from.

"Um, I don't think so? I got this coupon in the mail, but if it's not valid, I've got some cash on me..." She rummaged through her purse, annoyed at all the fuss her stupid coupon was causing.

"No, it's fine. Your meal is free." The blonde man snatched up the card and stuck it in the register. Tally wanted to ask him why no one else seemed to know about the free-dessert coupons, but she figured it wasn't really her place. Maybe that particular waitress was new, or maybe she just wasn't very good at her job. "I'm Dr. Shirogane Ryou." When he spoke again, Tally jumped a little; she hadn't been expecting him to say anything else to her. "And you are?"

"T-Tally." This guy was talking like they were having a perfectly normal conversation, completely oblivious to how _creepy_ he sounded. Like heck she was going to give him her full name.

"Tally. Have you noticed how foggy the city has been lately?" Of course she had. She was a night owl, and now that the weather was getting warmer, it felt nice to keep her window cracked at night. What was this creep getting at? Was he just trying to make small talk?

"Um, sure. I guess the city air is kind of polluted right now..." Tally _really _wanted to bolt out of there, but was more afraid of having this guy chase her than she was of continuing this weirdo conversation.

Dr. Shirogane actually laughed at that, a mithless little chuckle. "That's not it at all. Would you follow me to the back of the shop?"

"I'd really prefer to stay here, thanks." It looked like a light went on in the older man's head, and he nodded.

"Of course. I understand. But Tally, what I'm about to tell you is for your ears only." He must have sensed her unnerved disbelief, because he continued immediately, without giving her a chance to respond or escape. "That fog has nothing to do with the air quality of this city," though the look on his face said he wasn't too pleased about the air quality, either. "The world is being invaded by monsters from another dimension. It's up to you and a few others to save it."

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?" Tally couldn't take it any more; she was done being polite and accommodating. Dr. Shirogane shrugged.

"That's why I gave you that coupon, in the hope of getting you to come here." Noticing Tally's incredulous look, he added. "Where do you think that mark on your throat came from? It showed up out of nowhere about a week ago, correct?"

Tally's hand instinctively flew to her neck to cover the tiny pink winged-broken-heart mark there. "How did you know that?" She hadn't known _what _to think when the mark had shown up. It was too regular and, well, _cute _to be a rash or anything, and it really had appeared from nowhere. The man laughed again, just as humorlessly as before.

"I know what I'm doing, Tally. Unfortunately, it's difficult to explain properly when having this conversation out in the open. I could make my case much better if you'd be willing to come back to my lab. While I understand how strange this all must sound, I assure you I'm being completely serious. You've been given the power to save the world, Tally."

"So what, I'm Spider-Man now? And you're going to make me fight _fog?_ I don't—this is all really weird."

"Spider-Man is perhaps not the best analogue, but you do have super-powers now. Though of course you're not going to go fight the fog," Dr. Shirogane said as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. "You wouldn't last a minute against the fog or those who made it. For now, your job is just to find the others."

Tally followed him wordlessly into the back of the café, hoping that the disjointed fragments of information she had been given would add up to something soon.


	3. The Ceremony of Innocence

**Chapter 2: The Ceremony of Innocence**

I'm cutting it pretty close here, guys, but you know what? _It's still summer_. There isn't terribly much action in this chapter, because I'm sort of taking my time getting everything set up. Is that a good idea? Probably not, given how fast I write, but I'm trying to follow the Character Submission Story format as closely as I can.

Also, this chapter consists largely of what's probably the most awkward conversation I've ever written. And the timeskip specifically avoided another conversation that must have been equally awkward. Man, guys, when you get right down to it, trying to convince teenagers they have magic powers is _creepy_.

This chapter is dedicated to Mika and Zeph, because I promised them an update before Labor Day.

**Disclaimer:** Patrick Richards was created by and belongs to **Zephyrus Anemoi Fiction.**

* * *

The back of the café wasn't at all what Tally had expected. Sure, there was a kitchen, where the cutesiness of the decorations meshed oddly with stainless steel tables and appliances, but Dr. Shirogane led her right through it, down to the basement. He only paused to share a look with the chef, whose brown hair was pulled back into a low, thin ponytail.

"I'll be down in a moment," the chef said, not responding to any question Tally heard. "I just need to get these cupcakes out of the oven. Your timing could have been better, Ryou." His tone was warm, and Tally instinctively felt that she would rather stay up here with him than continue to follow Dr. Shirogane.

But she supposed she was committed to finding out what on earth was going here, so she let the blonde man lead her down. About halfway to the basement, the walls changed from cutesy pink wallpaper to dull steel, like a set in a science fiction movie. Dr. Shirogane was nonplussed by the change in decor, so Tally pretended to be unfazed as well, looking around only to record the details of this strange place in her memory.

The room they stopped in looked like a laboratory, all strange instruments and the weird gunmetal gray that characterized this basement. "So... What's this all about?"

"This is going to sound strange, Tally, but I assure you that I'm telling the truth. The Earth is being invaded—"

"What, like, by aliens?" Tally couldn't help the impertinent question from slipping out. This was all so _weird_. It was throwing the normally-quiet girl off-balance.

"No, though it might be easier to think of them that way. These invaders are supernatural, not extraterrestrial, but they're dangerous, and only you—and the others, of course, once you find them—will be able to stop them, or even notice what's happening."

Tally was, of course, incredulous. Yes, she had wanted answers, but this wasn't an explanation; this was the talk of a crazy man. Her eyes darted toward the lab's open door as she tried to judge whether it would be worth it to bolt. Before she came to any decision, though, the chef from upstairs entered through the Escape Doorway.

"It's about time, Keiichiro," Dr. Shirogane said exasperatedly, running an annoyed hand through his graying hair. The taller man just smiled, clearly not taking his partner's ire seriously.

"I apologize. By the look of it, you're not having much luck with Ms. Knoxford, are you?" Dr. Shirogane glared but didn't answer, and Tally smiled inwardly. This "Keiichiro"'s presence was a comfort; there was something about him that was much more friendly and personable than the frankly somewhat scary Dr. Shirogane.

Even their interaction was making her feel a little better. Up until now, she hadn't seen him do anything except act mysterious and spout ridiculous stories with a perfectly straight face. Dr. Shirogane opened his mouth to reply, but the taller man cut him off.

"Ms. Knoxford, my name is Dr. Keiichiro Akasaka. I'm sorry if Dr. Shirogane's explanations have been less than sufficient." It took Tally several seconds to decide if that was worth a reply.

"So, like, what's really going on here, then?"

"Hmm... Have you ever watched a magical girl anime, Ms. Knoxford?"

"Like Sailor Moon? No, not since I was little."

"Ah, well, this situation is very much like that." That didn't do anything to make Tally less skeptical.

"You... You want me to fight monsters?" Clearly, her initial assessment had been wrong. This man was as crazy as Dr. Shirogane.

"I know it sounds bizarre, but I'm absolutely telling the truth. If you want proof, say the following: 'Mew Mew Tally, Metamorphosis!'"

"Mew Mew Tally, Metamorpho-sis." she repeated, unsure of why she emphasized the last word so strangely. Immediately, she was engulfed in pale pink light as lavender ribbons criss-crossed their way down her chest and stomach. Under the ribbons, a musk-pink, puff-sleeved tutu sprang up. Dark purple lace raced down the bodice and across the skirt's hem, and matching gloves and ballet slippers covered her hands and feet. Big, beautiful snow-white wings sprouted from her back, and a silky horse's tail of the same hue poked out of her lower back just below her stiff skirt. All in all, she looked lovely, like a newborn fairy.

Then, trying to get a look at herself and back away from the weirdness at the same time, she tripped and fell flat on her butt, which was only slightly cushioned by her gossamer tail. Shirogane and Akasaka both immediately moved in to help her, but she waved them off.

"No, I'm fine, this happens all the time," she half-mumbled, her cheeks coloring as if to match the pink of her dress. She levered herself up using a nearby table, avoiding eye contact with the two scientists. "What did you do to me?"

"Exactly what I was trying to explain before," Dr. Shirogane replied tersely. "The world is being invaded. We want you to track down the others with the power to stop them."

"You... You seriously do want me to fight monsters?" On the one hand, that was absolutely ridiculous. On the other, this weird costume was incredibly _cute_, to the point where she was having trouble concentrating on anything else.

"No." The single word came out so forcefully that it almost knocked Tally over again. "Alone, you wouldn't stand a chance against most of the creatures that have come through the rift. If you tried to fight one by yourself... I wouldn't be responsible for what happened to you. Right now, your first priority is to find the others."

Tally fought to organize her jumbled thoughts. Obviously, these guys weren't just making stuff up, though they were still pretty crazy-sounding. But if they were right, and the fate of the world rested on her... Then Tally didn't see how she had much of a choice. She sighed. "All right. I'll help you. How do I find them?" Shirogane looked smug, but Akasaka smiled warmly at her.

"Well, we have names and addresses, but we'd prefer that you didn't just go up and ring their doorbells—not even your family can know about this. Instead, we have one more small thing we're going to need from you."

Without a word, Dr. Shirogane walked out of the lab. A few moments later, he came back holding what looked like a lump of ashy clay, molded into... A head, Tally supposed. A head with bat wings and bird feet. The shorter man set it gently down on the table, careful not to damage any of its limbs, and then backed out of Tally's line of sight again, up to who-knew-what.

"This is a homunculus, Tally," Dr. Akasaka explained, preempting her question. "It's a small magical construct that will help you find the others and, when you're ready, the enemy."

"Does it do anything? Or do I just carry it around?"

"Well, in order for it to come to life, it needs something from its master." Tally was suddenly, painfully aware that Shirogane, several feet away from them, had set up a little bunsen burner and was running a long needle through the blue-orange flame. "...-op, nothing too dire." Dr. Akasaka didn't seem to notice that the horse-girl's attention had strayed.

"You want to take my blood?" The embarrassed color leaked out of Tally's face, leaving it bone-white and drawn. "You never said you wanted to draw blood!"

"It's just a prick. Stop being a baby," Dr. Shirogane said grumpily as he brought the sterilized needle over to her. "You agreed to this, and if this is the most blood you shed before this is over, consider yourself a lucky girl."

Tally certainly didn't like the sound of _that_, but she scrunched her eyes shut and held out a hand. One of the scientists tugged off her glove, and then the needle pricked her finger. She flinched and let out a hiss of breath.

"It's over. You can look now." Only one of the girl's eyes cracked open, to see Akasaka gently press a gauze pad onto her bleeding finger. "Would you like me to get you a Band-Aid?"

"Sure, thanks," she replied hesitantly, taking the gauze when he stood up. The bandage he wrapped around her finger upon his return was pink, with black cat heads spattered across it. It struck her as odd that two grown men would have such cutesy Band-Aids, but, of course, that same strangeness applied to the whole café.

The homunculus, when she thought to look at it, had indeed taken on a much more lifelike appearance. It was covered in white fur, which, combined with its round ears, made it look rather like a tiny, snoutless polar bear head, with blue membranous wings and legs that, were it not for their long talons, would look like chickens'.

The thing squeaked happily and nuzzled up against Tally's face. She froze, unsure of what to do, but the little monster didn't seem to mean her any harm.

o()o

"So you're really not shitting me," Patrick Richards said wonderingly as he floated a few inches above the ground. Tally nodded, relieved that she'd found the right person. "I'm a freakin' ghost! Hell yes! Man, if I could publish this—"

"You can't," Tally replied sharply. "The scientists who did this were, like, crystal clear on that fact."

"Aww." The tall boy's face took on the aspect of a kicked puppy. "But what's the fun of knowing ghosts are for sure real if you can't share it with anybody?" He pouted hugely, batting his eyelashes like a little girl. Tally wanted to tell him to quit being an idiot, but she didn't want to have her very first teammate mad at her already.

So she forced a polite laugh. "How about this? If we save the world, you can go public."

"Fair enough," he replied, grinning, "So, are you part ghost too?"

"Um, no. Do you know what a pegasus is?"

"Like the winged horse from that Disney movie? So you're part fictional horse?" He snorted. "Pegasuses don't exist."

Tally boggled. "So... Let me get this straight. Ghosts exist, but pegasi can't?" she asked, unable to keep the judgement out of her voice. Part of her wanted to transform, to show him exactly how real her powers were. But transforming in front of a boy would be like changing clothes, and she certainly didn't know this boy well enough to do _that_.

"Well, yeah. I mean, paranormal and extrasensory phenomena are very well-documented, but winged horses don't exist outside myths, which, by definition, _aren't real_."

"Hah, well, I guess I can't explain it," she said agreeably, rubbing the back of her head. Inwardly, she was rolling her eyes. "But I'm supposed to take you back to the lab. Is that okay? I mean, do you have to tell your parents something?"

"Nah," Pat replied dismissively. "My old man won't mind. He knows I can take care of myself."

"Oh, um..." Tally didn't know the proper response to such an inherently awkward topic. "Well, let's go, then!" After waiting for him to close and lock his door, she led him out of the apartment building, heading confidently down his street.

"Hey, you said this café's by Grant Park, right?"

"Yeah! Have you ever been there? It's really lovely!" She smiled happily, hoping to put her new teammate at ease.

"Well, the nearest L station is this way." He hiked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing opposite the direction Tally had been going.

"Oh! You'd better lead then, I guess." Tally let out another airy laugh, but she couldn't believe how stupid she felt. Clearly, Shirogane had made a bad choice in making her the head of this team. Cursing her luck, she followed Pat to the train.


	4. Sticks and Stones

**Chapter 3: Sticks and Stones**

Oookay, so this hasn't been updated in nearly two years. Here's why: usually, when I write fics, I have a pretty good idea of the overall outline of the plot. That outline often changes (which is why _Severance_, in particular, is lumpy in places), but it exists.

I have no idea what I'm doing with this fic. I started writing it at the behest of other people, _not_ because I really wanted to write it. That was a bad idea. So **this story will probably never be updated again.** If anyone wants to pick it up and run with it, or if the people whose characters I'm using feel like they need permission to use them elsewhere (protip: you totally don't), feel free to PM me.

So yeah, this is pretty much an A/N chapter. That's why the story part is so short. And yeah, this is how I do an A/N chapter: with like a six-to-one story-to-notes ratio. :)

**Disclaimer:** Nina Coppertone was created by and belongs to **XxXChiharu-Chan-1000-SpringsXx**

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Nina Coppertone stared, one by one, at the other passengers in the car, just _daring_ them to stare back. She cracked her knuckles loudly enough to be heard over the rush of the train, but still nobody called her out. Man, she was itching for a fight so badly that her toned brown arms were covered in livid scratch marks, and she didn't know why.

She'd been like this for a week or so: too riled up to be a productive member of society, but lacking any targets worthy of getting the everloving shit kicked out of them. Just yesterday, she had been suspended (again) for tagging the side of the school building. As if she couldn't have gotten away with it if she'd wanted to. But school had been driving her _crazy_ lately—well, crazier than usual—and she'd rather get kicked out for a few days for being a gangster than sneak around like a twerp.

Nina sort of wished she had a boombox. That would get people's attention. It could also get her kicked off the train, but she was raring for a fight, and getting pointlessly kicked off the L was rebellious enough to suit her tastes.

_Someone_ was causing a big stir farther up the train. Nina could hear some kind of loud-ass fight, so she grabbed her backpack and leapt out of her seat, nearly falling over as the train ground to a halt. As she regained her balance, the door at the front of the car, and about half a person burst in.

Whatever it was, it only had one leg, a single arm that protruded from the middle of its chest, and one big eye. Upon seeing it, Nina actually _did_ fall over, but she wasn't taking it as badly as the people around her. No fewer than five of the dozen or so other passengers fainted dead away at the sight of the thing.

Two more people crashed into the car behind the half-a-guy. One of them was also about three quarters of a guy, but unlike the cyclops (or whatever the hell it was supposed to be), he just...didn't have legs below the knee. Or maybe he had invisible legs, since his body was floating off the ground at about normal height. The other newcomer was a chick, and amidst all the weirdness of the last few seconds, Nina considered that the chick might just be the weirdest. Where the two guys looked sorta monster-y, the girl looked like a goddamn ballerina in her pink tutu. And her wings and horse tail were probably leftover props from a production of Swan-Horse Lake. Yeah.

Legless Dude had a huge scythe that he was carrying like he didn't know how to use it, and Ballerina was clutching a tall gold staff a bit more purposefully. The half-a-guy spun around and sprung at them (literally sprung, because he could only move by hopping) at the others. Legless Dude moved into a defensive stance, but instead of doing, like, anything sensible, Ballerina screamed what sounded to Nina like word-salad nonsense.

When the blinding white light died down, the cyclops was dusted with what looked like little rainbows and was having some trouble moving. If he had been unnerving when he was moving around freely, his impeded movement was _totally hilarious_. Nina couldn't help but let out of bark of laughter, which caused all three combatants to turn their focus to her. She grinned and stood up, swaggering closer to the half-a-guy who, now that the initial shock had passed, wasn't scary at all.

"What are you doing? Get down!" Ballerina called, but Nina was used to hearing voices like that: voices of people who, despite being in positions of authority, did not possess any innate authority themselves, and could thus be safely ignored.

What was harder to ignore was the heavy ball of white fur that slammed into her chest. She fell back onto her butt, the breath knocked right out of her. The furball, with its chicken legs and bat-wings, was not even close to the strangest thing she'd seen that day, but its growl _did_ have some authority behind it (or, at least, some _I-will-claw-the-shit-out-of-you_), so Nina stayed down, raising her hands into a half-shrug and laughing like it was no big deal that she had just been taken down by a freaking stuffed animal.

Ballerina and Legless Guy stared at her for a couple more seconds, then turned back to the half-a-guy, which was slowly regaining its mobility.

"Let's wrap this up," Legless Guy muttered. He swung his scythe awkwardly and yelled some more gibberish, which somehow caused an impressive crescent of gray light to hurtle toward the half-a-guy and then pass right through, leaving him nonplussed but unharmed.

"What happened?" Ballerina asked tentatively. "It worked on that hoppy zombie last time..."

"How the hell should I know?" Legless Guy snapped, shaking his scythe like it was a flashlight that had just gone out. "You dragged _me_ into this, remember?"

"Run up and hit it!" Nina yelled before she could stop herself. "You both have weapons, for chrissakes!" The two of them just looked at her, but Ballerina at least repeated her word-salad-blinding-light trick to keep the half-a-guy from moving.

The furball floating above Nina opened its mouth wide, like it was gonna try and eat her, but instead a little black rock flew out of its mouth and hit her on the head before landing in her lap. She rubbed her head and glared at the furball. It was ready for the swipe she took at it, and flapped easily out of her reach.

Legless Guy groaned, but Ballerina brightened right up. Annoyingly, neither of them went to beat up the damn half-a-guy.

"Oh, good," Ballerina chirped. "We could use the help! What's your name?"

"I'm Nina, and don't you forget it!"

"Um, okay. Say 'Mew Mew Nina Metamorphosis,' please."

"What? Mew Mew Nina Metamorpho—_shit_!" Nina had been repeating the girl's words in a flat are-you-shitting-me voice, but black-and-gold light suddenly surrounded her, and when it vanished, she was dressed as crazily as the other two kids were. Her short blonde hair turned black and lengthened into two little pigtails, and her clothes turned into a black leotard under gold clawed armor. A pair of black drumsticks appeared in her hand.

"Yeah, it took me like that the first time too," Legless Guy said with a wry smile.

"Haha, awesome!" she said, taking in her sweet new outfit. "Hey, Ballerina, how do I get a weapon?"

"I think those drumsticks _are _your weapon," Ballerina replied tentatively. "Your attack should come nat—" She didn't get to finish her instructions, because Nina had immediately run at the half-a-guy and was beating on him with her drumsticks. He looked pissed, but hey, what was he gonna do about it?

Without any conscious thought, the beat Nina was narrating to herself became a cry of "Reborn, Anarchy Shower!" and the half-a-guy straight-up turned to stone before disintegrating. Hunh. Well, that had been nonsense too, Nina figured, but at least it was _awesome_ nonsense.


End file.
